"It's..healed?"
"According to the X-rays, it would look like it was never broken. It's interesting, we're going to need more time to process the blood sample. In the mean while, physically, he's completely healthy though we'll have to provide a walker aid for him..eh..them. I've send consideration for separating them, after we've studied their biology. We're somewhat restricted, trying to keep them alive, but they are one of a kind."
Luka sighed, walking across the observation deck, below them, Experiment #774 lay strapped to the operating table, hooked up to monitors and a drip administering a steady stream of morphine into his bloodstream. Ironically enough, no operation was going to take place. Perhaps that was what frustrated him most; all the fuss and panic he had made and was put through, only to be told it was unneeded. Really, he should be glad that his assigned subject hadn't died on his first day, his hands still felt clammy and his heart was still coming down from the race track. Checking his watch, he tried to find some comfort in his frustration that they were running behind time.
It honestly felt like déjà vu as he entered the room to greet the awaking boy. Probably even more groggy from the fresh fading anesthetic. He hoped the boy hadn't suffered some form of brain damage along the way, figuratively off course since the scans showed full working brain functions, forgetting about what had transpired. Luka hated to repeat himself.
It felt easier this time, stepping into the less claustrophobic room, a watchful eye behind the mirrored glass, surrounded by familiar whir of the machines. Already, he grip was less tense on the tablet, his breathing easier. What comforted him the most were the dark metal of the cuffs that bound the 'tumorous entities a.k.a Bruce,'s crimson cutting shears. They'd tested it beforehand, cutting one claw away. He tried to push the data out of his head, the first test had started with reinforced polymer, the last had ended up with shreds of a steel based compound; he made a note to personally fork out cash from his own salary to reinforce the current cellulose spun fibers laced with steel.
Standing by the patient's bedside, he tapped his fingers against the tablet, waiting for him to rouse, "If you're done with your little nap." He begun sarcastically, feeling a little spite for the adrenaline rush he had to endure, "We're behind on schedule, unfortunately, because of your little act, we're considering putting you in solitary confinement. However, due to your extraordinary situation, we're willing to show mercy and allow you to interact with the other patients-Please don't pull out the IV, nor any of the wires." He tried for professionalism. What would the others think if they found out about this indiscretion, "Now, ready to come quietly? We have lunch prepared."
